The Djinni's Tale

by Snake Staff

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Romance, Original Character, Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Sad
Length: 18871

An explorer finds an ancient lamp inside a ruined tomb. What secrets does it hold?

In the deserts of Saddle Arabia, an explorer finds more than he bargained for in an ancient tomb.

Published 2015-09-15 14:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-21 16:56:11 UTC

Chapter 1

One day in Windswept, Saddle Arabia, a stranger came to town.

He was nothing special to look at: an off-white unicorn of average height, with a subdued orange mane. His cutie mark was an image of an opening scroll, and his clothes were simple, brown, and practical. He wore likewise plain and uninspiring saddlebags, though that did not prevent the odd pickpocket from taking a stab at their contents.

The stranger spent a good amount of time in the town’s marketplace. He searched for information, for books and maps and perhaps a guide. As with most credulous foreigners, he was duly fleeced by the more unscrupulous of Windswept’s merchants. But he persevered, seeking after a place he had read of in a book in his far-off land. Most he talked to didn’t know of what he sought, and the more honest told him so. For those who did know of it, it was considered a cursed place, and it was best shunned by those with sense.

Of course, in all places and times one rule holds firm: money talks. And the stranger was not without means. Eventually he found a horse willing to take him to where he wanted to go and back – though not to go in with him, of course. So they packed their bags with supplies purchased from the guide’s sister, slept peacefully through the night, and left at dawn the next day.

The Saddle Arabian desert is hot and fierce, like few others in the world. Even the most experienced of equines are wise to stick to established routes, lest the sun or bandits or tatzlwurms in the end claim them. Local folklore tells of restless spirits of slain travelers wandering the dunes, jealous of the living and hungry to drag others down to their fate. Even those who put no stock in superstition must be wary of sandstorms, hungry predators, and the unrelenting heat.

So it was that the stranger’s journey lasted for three days and three nights. Though they avoided the worst of the sun’s rays by traveling through the mornings, evenings, and nights, the way was still perilous. Had it not been for his guide, the pony would surely have been eaten by the vicious brood of titanic scorpions they stumbled across. Only his quick thinking and experience averted the end. Even then they had to spend the better part of a day sealed inside a massive cave, clicking arthropod jaws audible outside.

In the end, they reached their destination: a cave in a rocky cliffside the stranger’s book had said held the resting place of a long-dead emir of the region. Once this place had been a great city, the envy of all the world. But cruel fate had taken its toll, and naught remained but a few stones poking out of the sand. Not even desert vermin nested among them. The Saddle Arabians likewise considered this place ill-omened and had longed shunned it. The stranger’s guide took him to the edge of the cliffside city’s ruins, and no further.

And so, the stranger went in alone.

The tomb of Emir Ahan, first of his name, was a faithful reflection of its occupant’s personality. In life he had been a cantankerous, paranoid old horse who very much enjoyed his privacy in between his bouts of self-glorification. Consequently, his self-built resting place was a combination of monument to his eternal majesty and lethal death trap. The best technology and magic of the time had been employed to seal his body and prized possessions away from all the world. Protective glyphs had been carved, spike-filled pits had been dug, hidden dart-guns affixed to the walls, trap doors leading to cages of venomous snakes had been set up, guardian spirits had been bound, and of course a giant boulder had been placed precariously above a very narrow hallway. It would all have been quite lethal and nigh-insurmountable even to an explorer of the stranger’s caliber.

Had any of it been working.

The problem with leaving deathtraps in one’s tomb is that they are just as vulnerable to the ravages of time as one’s body. Compounding the difficulty was the fact that the stranger was far from the first to get it into his head to explore this place. The very book he had gotten the idea from had been written by a previous visitor. Grave-robbers and bold explorers alike had taken shots at that place over the centuries, and most were far from stupid.

Consequently, as the stranger explored the tomb he found that the glyphs had been smashed with hammers, the pits filled with sand or boarded over, the dart-guns’ ammunition long expended or mechanisms rotted away, the trap doors’ hinges broken open and the snakes starved to death, guardian spirits laid to rest, and the boulder sitting happily atop the yellowed bones of a pony in what looked to have been a very nice hat. With fate having dealt with the tomb’s worst long before the stranger arrived, making his way through it was simplicity itself. He found the experience almost anticlimactic after all the time and effort spent to get there.

Still, the stranger was far from stupid. It was possible that something still lingered in that place, and so he spent many hours going over the path forward with a fine-toothed comb. But still, nothing. Once he reached the actual body chamber itself, the stranger’s sense of disappointment was magnified a hundredfold. The place seemed but a dusty, crumbling ruin. The treasures reputed to be there had been taken long ago, whether by archaeologists seeking to advance their discipline or by those after more monetary rewards. The gold and jewels and scrolls said to have been piled about the sarcophagus were nowhere to be found, the stone lid of the coffin itself missing. When he looked inside, the stranger’s heart fell to see that not even the emir’s body had been spared the ravages of looters. Nothing but dust and a few odd bits of moldy cloth remained inside.

Horn aglow, the stranger searched the tomb from top to bottom. What he found was… nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hours into his search he saw little but dust and pebbles. Somepony had even taken hammers to whatever had been carved into the walls, rendering them utterly illegible and unsuited for rubbing. There was, horribly, simply nothing of value left in this place.

It was just as he was preparing himself to leave that he caught a slight glint in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he looked over at one pile of rubble in a dark corner of the emir’s tomb. There was the slightest hint of reflected light coming from underneath one of the many dusty rocks there. Curious, and having little to lose, the stranger walked over and immediately fathomed why he had not seen this before: he simply hadn’t examined the stones from the proper angle.

Chiding himself for being careless, he gently pulled the rocks aside with magic. He soon saw what it was that had caught his eye… and was again disappointed. It was a simple bronze oil lamp of modest size. To be sure, he dug further, but there he found nothing more. The old vessel appeared dusty and severely tarnished with age. It was simple bronze all over, alternatively flat or mildly dented. It lacked any distinguishing marks, symbols, or artistry, so utterly generic that the stranger could not even hazard a guess at its age or origins. It could have been part of the emir’s belongings and simply have been tossed aside as worthless, or perhaps was simply a lost possession of a previous visitor.

The stranger briefly considered throwing the old thing aside himself, but quickly thought better of it. It was the only thing he’d found of even minor historical value in this place. Worst came to worst, it was a souvenir to add to his collection back home. Still a dismal result considering all the effort and money he’d had to invest in getting here. He moved to place it into his saddle bags, but in doing so brought it too close to his nose. His sneezing echoed throughout the empty tomb.

When it finally finished, he looked irritably down at the dusty bronze lamp. Muttering to himself, the stranger pulled a small cloth from his bags and set to cleaning the thing, or at least ridding it of dust.

It took a few seconds for the lamp to explode.

One moment it was just an inert lump of bronze in the stranger’s hooves, the next its spout went off like a firework, flash and bang and all. The startled pony dropped the lamp to the stone floor and scrambled backwards, heart racing. The little lamp unleashed a truly prodigious quantity of golden fire, forming a miniature hurricane that whipped through the dusty tomb. The stranger squeezed his eyes shut as it swept over him. Astonishingly, though the flames warmed his skin to the touch, they did not burn.

Then, just as suddenly as it had burst onto the scene, the fire retracted itself. It flowed back across the chamber, collecting in a swirling tornado above the toppled oil lamp. That too folded in on itself. The stranger watched in a strange combination of fear and fascination as the flames took on a vague equine shape before becoming more and more solid with each passing second. At length the fire was gone altogether, and in its place stood the strangest mare that stranger had ever seen.

She was tall, taller than anypony of his country, and even larger than the stallions of Saddle Arabia. Her coat was a pure white, her mane and tail both flickering flames of orange and gold that drifted in a nonexistent wind. Thick golden bracelets – or perhaps cuffs – encased her two front ankles, while the base of her neck was bound tightly in a shimmering, bejeweled golden brace. A ruby dangled from her horn. She was undeniably beautiful, but what really caught the stranger’s attention was that she had a horn and wings. That was impossible! Everypony knew that. So what was this?

The mare’s head rose slowly, as if unused to doing so. The two ponies’ eyes soon met, whereupon her body instantly went ramrod straight. Her face acquired a blank, almost mechanical expression as she lowered her head into a bow.

“Master mine,” she said. “My will thine. Render to me your wishes three. And I shall see them done.”

And then the mare blinked and shook her head, groaning audibly. She ruffled her wings and then stretched herself out while the confused stallion watched. Once again she raised her head, and they made eye contact.

“Oh,” she muttered, sounding dazed. “Hello there.”

The stranger scooted back a few steps. The mare shook her head again before speaking.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said in a gentle, soothing tone. “I am not here to hurt you.”

He did not believe her.

Chapter 2

“W-what?” the stranger’s mouth suddenly felt dry, while his eyes widened. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

This was bad. This was very bad. It was well-known among those of the adventuring disposition that spirits in ancient ruins were always dangerous. Whether imprisoned or there voluntarily, they were almost invariably driven mad by isolation and violently insane. Some were guardians, by choice or conscription, set utterly on the extermination of intruders. Many others were jealous creatures, seeking to steal the life or flesh of the living. Still more were simply mindless creatures of predation, taking residence in decaying ruins out of sheer convenience. No matter which type it was, many such spirits were deceptively beautiful. A pony who did not keep his wits in their presence soon bitterly regretted it. A pony who listened to them even more so.

“I said: don’t be afraid,” the radiant mare answered. “I am not here to harm you. I cannot harm you. It is forbidden.”

The stallion’s eyes drifted slightly to the side, towards the way he had come and the inviting darkness. His legs twitched, and he backed up another step.

“You called for me, Master,” she continued. “And I am here. What is your–”

The stranger turned and bolted as hard as he could.

“Wait! Please!” he heard the mare calling out after him.

The stallion ignored the sound, certain that if he returned she would consume him. Instead he ran and ran through the empty tomb as fast as his hooves could take him. Through the stone and darkness and ruined traps he raced, desperate to avoid the fate assured to those who roused a spirit’s hunger. For once in his life he wished to be one of the barbaric pegasi, that swift wings would carry him from here.

Alas for him, it was not to be. The golden fire seeped from the very walls themselves, once again forming a whirling tornado directly in his path. As he cursed the malady that left him unable to teleport, the mare stepped forth once again. Her tall form and flared wings blocked the tunnel completely – there was nowhere for the stranger to run.

“Master,” she said. “Please! Have I done something to anger you?”

“Back away, spirit!” His horn flared as he pawed the stone floor. “You will not find me some easy meal! Get back!”

His jaw dropped as she did promptly take several steps back, without otherwise moving her body. Perhaps she was not eager for a straight fight. Then she clearly meant to take him by deception.

“Meal?!” she gasped, eyes bulging. “Master, I am your servant! You called for me! Why do you say such things? Why do you run? Please, turn and retrieve the lamp, lest I be drawn back inside it.”

The stranger did not understand the reasoning of this spirit, and for just a moment felt tempted to believe her. Then he remembered the tales of the Sirens of the North Sea, who lured sailors to their deaths with enchanting voices and beguiling appearance. He recalled the story of the Ghost Queen that haunted the Temple of the Ancients, using her ethereal beauty to enslave those who entered. She would suck the very essence of life from her victims, even while they fawned on her and sang her praises with their last breaths. The griffons spoke of the Maiden of the Mountain, who drew in the foolish with unearthly loveliness, then plucked their feathers and cast them cruelly to their deaths. Spirits were strange beings, and they could not be trusted. He did not know why this one had not yet set upon him, but he had little intention of waiting for her to change her mind.

“Away with you!” he called out, advancing and trying his best to appear fearsome. “Begone, spirit! I will not heed your lies!”

The spirit’s devotion to her role would have been the toast of any acting troupe, for she shivered visibly and even let out a tiny whimper. She backed off another step, head low.

“Please! Do not – nrgh!” she groaned as the bracelets on her forelegs lit up. “Do not do this – argh – thing! I cannot – ugh – resist you! I will bring you – gah – much happin – urgh – if you–”

“I said,” he growled, resisting the impulse to show sympathy. “Away with you! Return from whence you came!”

The mare rolled back her head and let out a heart-rending shriek of utter despair. The next second her bracelets flared, and her body exploded into streams of fire, which raced away back down the tunnels through which the stranger had fled. In but a moment the fire vanished entirely, the tomb left as dusty and dark as it had ever been.

The stallion did not hesitate. Though he had little understanding of why the spirit had seemingly listened – save for one explanation that was utterly impossible – he intended not to waste his reprieve. He galloped back through the emir’s tomb, expecting every second for a ravenous she-demon to burst from the shadows and fall upon him. Yet, as the seconds ticked by and he ran further and further, nothing of the sort happened. In fact, nothing happened at all. The closest the stranger came to harm was when he tripped over a shattered piece of statue and hit the dirt. He scrambled to his hooves a second later and continued, ignoring the blood dripping down his face. To his immense relief, he burst forth from the tomb’s entrance unharmed and entirely unmolested.

The sun beating down on his head and heart racing, the stranger continued to run for some distance before coming to a halt behind one of the stones poking out of the sand. He was sweating badly and breathing heavily, while the rock offered shade and a place to sit. The tomb’s entrance was clearly visible from there – a reassuring distance away. Nothing had yet sprung out to pursue him, no hidden traps had sought to keep him there. There was a high chance that the spirit was bound to the tomb, and in any case the stranger himself was bound to the area until his guide returned for him in three days’ time. He knew that he could not survive the desert alone.

The stallion sipped from his water supply and watched the tomb’s entrance with the sharp-eyed vigilance of a hungry hawk. Minutes turned to hours and day became night, and still there was no sign of any activity from within. This greatly puzzled him. If he had simply run without ceasing, he could have been many miles from this place, well out of the spirit’s grasp. Yet she made no move to pursue him. She had made only a feeble attempt to even force him to stay. Why? What could she possibly gain from pretending to obey him? Why would she allow him to leave so easily? It did not make sense.

Spirits haunted ancient ruins. They claimed the lives of mortals unlucky enough to wander into their path. They were proud and powerful creatures with knowledge and magic beyond the ken of the greatest of unicorn mages. They did not allow intruders to escape. They did not bow and call them Master. They most certainly did not heed the command of a mere mortal to depart. The stranger had seen them before, seen what they could do to a pony luckless or foolish enough to fall into their grasp. So why? Why had this mare acted as she had? What was the point of it all? And moreover, what was a creature of fire doing inside a lamp? He'd never heard of such a thing in all his years.

The stranger considered these questions deep into the night, before at last succumbing to exhaustion. That he awoke the next morning somewhat surprised him, for the theory he had most entertained was that spirit was simply toying with him for her own amusement, and that he would find himself in her clutches come first light. But again, nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen as the day went by. Though the stallion stared and stared, the area appeared persistently still, utterly empty of ravenous spirits seeking his end.

At length, the curiosity that drew him here, so far from home, began to reassert itself, to war with his fear. He had spent much gold and endured long months of travel to be where he stood. Was he simply to consider all that a waste? And for what – a little creature of embers that had not dared even stand before him? Part of him wished to simply stay outside, to wait until his guide returned and leave this cursed place far behind him. Another part urged him to return, to explore further, to find whatever secrets the spirit might be guarding. Ultimately, there could only be one answer.

If he were the type of pony to take the first option, he would never have been there in first place.

As the sun set in the sky, the stranger slowly, cautiously crept back into the tomb. It was… as dark and dusty as it had ever been. Though he searched high and low, there was not a soul to be seen. No matter how hard he looked or how many times he checked over his shoulder, he never saw the slightest trace of the spirit.

It took the stallion many, many hours of painstaking searching before he even dared to approach the burial chamber itself. It was dark and empty, just as it had been the day before. Only hoofprints in the dust indicated that anypony had ever been there at all. The mare was nowhere to be seen.

With the utmost of care the stranger crept along the walls of the chamber, retracing his own steps from a distance. Sure enough he found where he had so recently stood and saw the mare’s hoofprints in the dust. The old bronze lamp, still smudged and only half-cleaned, lay limply on the floor, exactly where he had left it. After a few minutes’ deliberation he walked back over to the thing and picked it up. That it was a magical artifact and a valuable find was self-evident. What to do with it, less so. Leave it here? But then what of the knowledge that could be gained from it? But what of the being presumably inside again? Would she be angry, and attack him on sight? On the other hoof, could he in good conscience simply turn and leave a possible innocent to indefinite confinement in a dusty ruin? What to do, what to do...

The stranger placed a gentle hoof on the lamp and rubbed.

This time, the effect was immediate. The bronze shuddered and spat the familiar golden flame, as if the occupant were roused from slumber and eager to be released. Sure enough the all-too-familiar mare made her appearance, while the stranger took a few cautious steps backwards.

“Master,” she breathed when she saw him, before bowing her head low. “Please, tell me how I displeased you! What did I do to make you flee?”

“Uh…” the stranger hesitated, having expected anger or imperiousness.

“Please, I beg of you." He could see tears glistening in her eyes. “Do not condemn me again! I swear I will faithfully serve you until your wishes are fulfilled! Merely let me walk free until the time is up! It is dark in there, Master… and so lonely. It has been so long since I last breathed free air. This small boon alone I ask of you.” The spirit bowed her head once again.

The stranger blinked. “Umm… what?”

She looked, hesitatingly, up. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you, you know–” he waved his hoof “–doing that?”

One of her eyebrows rose.

“Bowing and scraping and calling me Master,” he clarified.

“You… you truly do not know?”

He shook his head.

“Master… you called me forth to be your servant and grant your three wishes, did you not?”

The stranger cocked his head. “I did?”

The mare straightened up a bit, now cocking her head at him strangely. “You sought out my lamp and rubbed it. You awakened me from my slumber of centuries. For what other reason would you have been here?”

“I came here to see what of historical value I could find,” he answered. “I had no idea that there was a lamp here, much less that it contained a spirit.”

“…Oh.” Her face actually fell a bit. “But I suppose it does not matter. Whether or not you knew it, you still called on me. You are still my master, until your wishes are fulfilled.” She bowed yet again. “I ask that you please allow me to walk free on the earth until such time as they are.”

“Alright.” The stranger was not sure how much he trusted her words, but she seemed fairly docile as spirits went. She had had more than enough opportunities to pounce on or bewitch him. Besides, she was... pleasant to look at.

“My thanks.” The mare smiled weakly. “But why did you run from me? Why did you banish me back to my prison? Did I offend you?”

“I… thought you were going to eat me,” he admitted.

“Eat you?” She looked almost as horrified as the day before. “I told you: I cannot harm you!”

“I don’t exactly know much about you or what you can do, miss.”

“You may ask, if such knowledge would please you.” She bowed her head still another time.

“Alright, let’s start out with the basics: who are you? What are you?”

“I am the slave of the lamp, Master. I am called Djinni.”

Chapter 3

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” the stranger said.

“Master?” Djinni cocked her head.

“I was hoping you would tell me a bit more about… you know.” He waved his hoof. “What manner of creature are you? From whence did you come? How came you to be in this place?”

“Oh,” she blinked. “Well… I am a spirit of the smokeless fire and a spark of the light eternal. I danced a dance unending across the heavens with a billion billion brothers and sisters, such that all life might endure.” Her orange-gold mane and tail seemed to pick up, illuminating the tomb even more. “We were many, yet we were one.”

“…What?”

She sighed. “In less poetic terms, Master, I was part of the sun.”

“Part of the… part of the…”

The stranger’s brain teetered dangerously on the edge of illogic. For a creature to be part of the sun was blatantly impossible – even the merest fragment of that great orb would have been enough to incinerate him, the tomb, and everything within the hemisphere without even trying. That this mare stood there and called him Master made the absurdity even more evident. The sun could never be tamed, never enslaved, only carefully guided. And that was by a team of the most powerful and highly-trained unicorns in the world.

“Are you messing with me?” he asked. “Is this some kind of joke you enjoy playing on hapless mortals? Are you a trickster spirit after all?”

“It is no jest, Master,” she insisted. “I am the barest piece of the sun, bound to the lamp and given shape, consciousness, and name. It is on the infinite energies of the sun I draw to grant my masters’ wishes.”

The stranger considered her words. It did not seem possible… but then, the spirits were strange creatures. In any case she was an invaluable discovery, the likes of which he might never see again. It seemed unwise to provoke her to wrath by calling her a liar. Even if she did insist that she could not harm him.

“If you are truly a portion of the sun, how did you come to be a slave in a lamp? How could anypony possibly bind the infinite fire to a mere vessel of tarnished bronze?”

“It is… something of a long story, Master.”

“You need not continue to call me Master,” he said, telling her his name. “If we are to have a lengthy discussion, then I prefer my given name.”

“That I cannot do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I cannot call my master anything other than Master. It is part of my binding. Behold.” Djinni opened her mouth, then began the very first symbol of the stranger’s name. At once her jaw locked in place, her tongue froze in mid-contortion. She looked like nothing so much as a great gaping fish, and the stranger found it hard not to at least chuckle.

“Master,” she said after a moment’s time, everything undone the moment the word touched her lips. She breathed deeply. “You see? It is a reminder, a symbol of what I am, that I might never escape the knowledge of my status.”

The stranger felt a wave of revulsion churn in his gut. Who had done this to her? Why was obvious enough, but what kind of monstrosity could enslave such a creature and then go out of its way to humiliate her? Why hurt something this beautiful?

“Is there no way?”

“There is none,” she shook her head.

“If you were a free spirit–”

“I can never be free,” she declared with surprising vehemence, stomping her hoof so hard that the tomb quaked around them. Loose stones dropped from the ceiling and shattered. The stallion struggled to keep his balance. Djinni walked directly up to the stranger, easily towering over him. Her eyes seemed to glow. “Speak not of what you know not, Master!” She pressed her face almost directly into his. “Or you may come to regret it.”

The fires of her mane and tail had brightened and flickered harshly. Hints of red could be seen amongst the gold and orange. The temperature in the tomb rose several degrees, matching even the scorching desert outside. The stranger felt his ears folding back, sweat trickling down his neck.

“V-very well,” he said, blanching. “I shall s-say no more of it.”

Djinni snorted, then nodded. Now mollified, the fires of her mane slowly died down as she backed away. Cool air swept back into the tomb with surprising, nigh supernatural quickness. The stranger felt some color returned to his face, and he let out a long breath.

“Now,” she said, all trace of her previous threatening demeanor vanished. “Where were we? You wished to hear of my past, did you not?”

“Yes, I– wait. Does that count as a wish?”

She chuckled. “No. To make a wish, you must say: “Djinni, I wish for…” and then say what you will. My binder considered the possibility of accidental wishing many millennia ago. She was less than eager to fall victim to it. I would be happy to tell you, though. It has been so long since I have had someone to talk to.” She flicked a wing idly, and in the blink of an eye the floor at their hooves was covered in thick, plush carpet and a smattering of cushions. “Please, be seated.”

Once both had settled in to somewhere comfortable, she began.

“I was, as I said, a part of the sun. One flame among many, though I could not have perceived it as such. For all the sparks there are one, and each only a tiny part of the great will of the eternal fire.”

“The sun has a will?” he asked. “It is alive?”

Djinni hesitated, then shook her head. “Not… in any sense you would understand, Master. Forgive me, it is difficult to explain – your language lacks the proper words, your mind the necessary concepts. The sun has, in some manner of speaking, a spirit and a will. It can perceive all that its light touches. At the same time, though, it is not consciously aware. It does not think thoughts or make plans. If tomorrow you somehow gave it language, it could not speak to you, nor would it truly understand anything you said to it. It simply is not self-aware as even the basest of creatures are. Yet it still has desires and a motivating force that drives it.”

The stranger found picturing a being that willed things without even comprehending the fact of its own existence difficult to picture. Even verminous insects understood that they were real, and that they must act on their base desires.

“What does it will?” he eventually asked.

“In your terms, Master, it wishes to run wild and free, with none to tell it what to do. At the same time, it also wishes to bless the universe with its light, and to give life to the little things it sees scurrying about below. Those who would bid it move must appeal to latter instinct against the former. They must be strong of will and magic, lest the great fire extinguish both.”

“I see.” He pondered her words. “What about you, then? You clearly possess consciousness.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I do. It is, as I said, a result of my current state. Many eons ago a great sorceress came into possession of unique knowledge and a very special little lamp.”

The stranger looked the lamp over again. The bronze, as ever, was dented and tarnished and bereft of ornamentation. It looked the exact opposite of special. Even magically it didn’t meaningfully register.

“That lamp long predates my imprisonment in it,” Djinni continued. “Even the memories of the sun do not show from whence it came, so it must have been forged in a place of utter darkness. By whom, and for what purpose, I know not. Regardless of that, the sorceress found a way to siphon off a trickle of the sun’s power. But to bind it to a vessel, to make it a slave, it needed a mind and a body. Simply capturing a fragment of the sun would never be enough, for it could not understand orders even if they could be given.”

She sighed. “My essence was given form, as you see before you now, by dark magic and blood sacrifice. By those means could it be compressed and forced to look on the world as mortals do. From there it could be bound, made to obey the one holding its vessel. And such was what happened. No ordinary vessel could hope to contain even a portion of the sun’s fire, but that lamp is no ordinary thing. It’s quite indestructible, actually.” She looked down a little. “In those first days, I tried.”

The stranger felt another wave of pity hit him, though he resisted the urge to ask about her freedom again.

“I did not know well my new mind or emotions, but I understood at least a hatred of confinement. I raged and screamed fought with all the strength I could muster. But it simply wasn’t enough. By the time the sorceress rubbed the lamp to call me forth, I had on some level realized that I must obey her. These–” she held up one of her bracelets “–do not allow me to do otherwise. As you saw, if commanded to return to the lamp I cannot refuse.”

“I… apologize,” the stranger said, pulling his hat down a little. “I didn’t mean to put you through that.”

“Think nothing of it.” She waved it off. “You returned, that is all that matters.”

“Uh, yes,” he said, a little uneasily. “Go on.”

“Of course, Master.” She bowed her head. “In those early days I was angry. I hated what had been done to me, and yearned to return to the way things were. To be forced to grant three wishes to my captor… it enraged me beyond words.”

“Why three?” the stranger interrupted. “Why not did she not seek more? Why not bind you to infinite wishes?”

“I do not know,” Djinni replied. “But I assume that if she could have, she would. She was not the sort of mare to be content with anything less than the best. Binding me as I am must have stretched her power to its limits. But, for all her power and wisdom, in one thing she was foolish. She assumed that I was more beaten than I actually was. She was careless in her hour of victory. When she wished to be the most powerful mage in all the world…”

She hesitated a moment before continuing. “She failed to specify which world,” the tall mare sighed and hung her head. “There are many worlds in this system alone, Master. In an instant I placed her on an airless rock and proclaimed her the most powerful wielder of magic on it. A few moments later…” Djinni opened her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was drawn back into the lamp by my master’s death.”

“What is it like… in there?”

“It is… dark and very small. I can see nothing, hear nothing. There are walls everywhere, cold and unfeeling with no way out. Above all things, it is very lonely. I have no one to be with, no one to give my light to. The only mercy is that I can sleep. I often pass the centuries in a state of torpor, floating and dreaming of the next time a soul will call on me.”

“Are you certain there is no way you can be–”

In an instant her demeanor shifted. One moment Djinni was sitting there, looking weak and mournful, the next the carpet underneath them burst into raging red flames that consumed it utterly. The stranger was dropped roughly onto the hard stone floor, only to immediately behold the sun spirit towering above him, eyes alight and mane red and orange.

“What did we already discuss, Master?” She lowered her head such that her muzzle stood mere centimeters from his. It felt like sticking one’s face right next to a raging bonfire. “We wouldn’t want you to end up like my first master, would we? So I suggest you leave the topic be, for the sake of your health.”

“Yes! Yes!” he nodded vigorously. “I understand, I only wanted–”

“You understand nothing! Keep your silence, lest you should draw my ire.”

“O-of course,” he swallowed.

Djinni’s eyes, bright enough to be mistaken for small suns themselves, narrowed. “See that it stays that way,” she hissed.

And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the flash of temper was gone like dust in the wind. Before the stranger even had a chance to sit up, he found himself once again atop a plush rug, being propped up by a comfortable cushion. Djinni sat where she had moments ago, suddenly all sweetness and subservience again. The effect was highly disconcerting.

“Are you comfortable, Master?” she asked, no trace of anger in her voice. “I see that you are sweating. Would you care for something to drink before I continue?”

“S-Some water would b-be nice.” He struggled to restrain the urge to turn around and bolt again. What the hell was wrong with this mare? One moment she was sweet, caring, and lovely, the next she felt like a raging firestorm. One moment she wept for killing the witch who enslaved her, the next she seemed on the verge of doing it to him. One moment she was mourning her miserable imprisonment, the next she threatened him with death for even suggesting the possibility of freedom. What had happened to "I cannot harm you. It is forbidden."? He had met strange females before, but never of this magnitude.

“Of course,” she said, and in an instant he simply had a large glass of chilled water and ice. This he opted to guzzle before she decided to set it on fire as well. It was clean, cool, and very refreshing. The spirit waited patiently for him to finish.

“Better?” she asked in a gentle tone. When he nodded, she smiled. “I am pleased to hear it. Now, as I was saying: after my first master’s death, it was many years before I saw another. She was much feared and very secretive, so I had a good deal of time to brood before a bold thief stole into her laboratory and found my lamp among her possessions. He soon became my second master. But I was still angry at my bonds and full of spite for mortals, so…” Shame crept back into her tone. “He survived his first wish by dint of quick reflexes and good luck. Afterwards he buried the lamp as deeply as he could and never looked back.”

The stranger was beginning to wonder if that might not be the best idea after all.

“After that...” She sighed. “It was more than thirteen hundred years before I had another master. By the time I did, I had had time to think, my temper time to cool. So when an archivist happened to acquire me, I was not so consumed with a desire to lash out. He was…” She smiled faintly. “A pleasant master. I was with him for many years before his third wish, and I learned much in that time. Since then there have been many masters, some better than others. The last I believe was… what year is it, Master?”

The stranger told her.

“Ah. Around seven hundred and fifty-three years ago, then. I had a poor young stallion who wanted to be rich, wanted to be loved and admired. Nothing too out of the ordinary. And then he wanted to be ruler of a city that would be the envy of all the world.” She looked down. “I tried to warn him, but he insisted. He never really understood what the envy of the world would entail,” she sighed, looking up again. “I doubt it ended well.”

“I think we’re in his tomb,” he told her.

Djinni looked around. “And the city?”

“A ruin held to be cursed.”

“That is sad to hear,” she said. “I hope that his passing at least was peaceful. And that your wishes go better for you, Master.” She bowed a little. “Have you any?”

“As a matter of fact,” the stranger said. “I think I do.”

Chapter 4

“Go on,” Djinni prodded. “Name your desire, and it will be reality.”

“Alright, I wish for – wait.” The stranger hesitated. “I need to ask you something else first.”

“Oh? What knowledge do you require, Master?”

“What are the rules?”

She blinked. “Rules?”

“You know: what can you do? What can’t you do? What counts as a wish? How do wishes work? What sort of wishes are banned?”

“Ah.” She nodded. “To answer your questions, the only real limit on what can be done is how much power I can bring to bear on something. The sun is the source of all my magic, and so anything that it lacks the power to achieve is also outside of my power. For example, if you asked me to create a new star, I am afraid that it would be quite beyond me. But anything I can do, I will have to do if you wish for it. I have already told you what words you need to say to make a wish. As to how they work, you name what it is you want, and I grant it. Anything that you do not specify is up to me to decide how to handle in the granting. And, as I said before, no wishes that I can accomplish are actually banned in any manner.”

“I see,” he said, mulling her words over.

“Unofficially, Master,” she continued. “May I give you some advice?”

“Of course.”

“Wise,” she said. “I advise you not to make any wish that might endanger the world’s safety. Elsewise I shall feel compelled to sabotage it in any manner possible. And perhaps kill you in the process.”

The stranger blanched. The threat had been delivered with utter nonchalance – there was not even the slightest change in her tone.

“For example, though you do not seem the type, should you ask me to boil the seas I might make them boil for an insignificant fraction of a second and then restore normal temperature before anything can be affected. Should you specify a duration I might reinterpret the word “seas” or “mistake” it for a homophone.” She shrugged. “I am very old and very knowledgeable. I am happy to serve, but I will not allow anyone to destroy life on this planet. But beyond that, I will do all I can to faithfully grant your wishes in the best manner possible.”

The stallion swallowed. He would never make a wish like that, but all the same the knowledge that this spirit might try to kill him if she disapproved enough was unnerving.

“I thought you said that you couldn’t harm me?” he said, after a moment. “Was that a lie?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I cannot hurt you.”

And then she was instantly above him. By way of demonstration she pulled back a hoof as if to strike, only for the bracelets to shine and the limb to lock itself in place. Djinni visibly struggled, pulling against the shining jewelry, but absolutely nothing she did made her leg move even a fraction of an inch.

“You see?” she said, reappearing where she had been sitting just as casually. “I have no power to harm you. I can only… give you what you ask for.”

The stranger was beginning to wonder if perhaps the ancient thief had had the right idea after all. This mare seemed dangerous and more than a little prone to mood swings. It was possible that all her time cooped up alone had left her utterly insane, or perhaps just extremely spiteful. She claimed that those days were behind her and that the fall of this city had been an accident, but how did he know that? Perhaps all her subservient demeanor was simply an act designed to make him let down his guard for a lethal setup. It was, after all, how he would go about killing a master from her position.

But then… if that were her intent, why warn him? Why tell him of killing her first master, when it would only put him on his guard? Why not simply act the part of a docile and always-obedient servant until he had already made a wish she could twist to kill him? Perhaps she was simply insane after all. Or maybe she was clever enough to anticipate his having this line of thought in advance, and take measures to head it off. By framing the threat exclusively in terms of dangers to the world, was she trying to lower his guard when making other types of wishes?

He shook his head. If he thought like that, he could attribute any number of conspiracies and reverse psychological games to her. He could not hope to prove it one way or the other, save by plunging into the dangerous waters headfirst.

“Master?” Djinni’s voice cut into his thoughts. He looked up.

The spirit’s expression had softened. “You need not be afraid, Master. I am not out to hurt you. I do not wish to make you miserable. I hope to leave you with a prosperous and joyful life ahead of you. I sought not to terrify you, only to warn you that you might think carefully. Nothing would please me more than to give you happiness.”

“Why?” he asked, deciding the direct approach might yield results. “You are a slave, imprisoned unjustly for uncounted years. I am merely the latest to stumble on you by chance. What is my happiness to you?”

“Mine,” she answered.

Seconds passed, but the mare declined to offer further comment. The stranger decided not to push it, for reasons of conscience and pragmatism.

So this was it, was it? Make a wish or don’t. Waiting was pointless – he knew full well what he wanted. The only question was whether he would get it. And whether he would survive the experience, of course. He could play cautious and take her on the long journey back home, and then maybe he might find some information giving him a better idea of whether to trust her or not. He could play it really safe and order her back to her lamp, toss it back into the rubble or bury it in the sand, and leave having lost nothing further. Alternatively, he could take her at her word, make his wish, and reap the results. Play it safe on the off-chance of better odds, or take a risk to get what he wanted? He let out a sigh, and made a decision.

He could only pray that it was the right one.

“Djinni?” he said.

Her ears perked up. “Yes, Master?”

“Djinni, I wish for you to show me a wonder never beheld by mortal eyes.”

She nodded slowly, then smiled.

“Done.”

The stranger hit something liquid. A purple gaseous cloud in the unending blackness of the void. The icy substance chilled him to the bone in an instant. A wave the size of ten mountains smashed into a bleak, lifeless land with towers of stone. He realized he was up to his waist in the viscous substance. A swirling super-storm in an endless cloud of red. He could not feel the bottom. Blue gas lit an alien sky, stars shining around three other planets. He was sinking deeper. An insect skittered across the black earth of a dense jungle. Towering citadels of blue and silver stretched across the horizon. The fluid was enveloping the top of his back, pushing him along. Twin suns set over a scene of endless desert. Mountains black and sharp as daggers pierced the frozen landscape of endless ice. He could not keep his place, could not swim through the distraction. A cratered rock flowed endlessly through inky blackness. A many-legged alien titan swam through a sea of green. Even now he continued to sink in. Explosions shook a rocky land of canyons and cliffs. Twisting spires of the deep dark rose through a cavern floor. It was up to his neck, lapping the bottom of his chin. A dark, armored pony screamed as she was enveloped by a twisting rainbow. A flare blazed off of an endless sea of fire. He clamped his mouth shut as the substance threatened to enter. Wind blew through an ancient and fertile valley. Twisted, simian creatures swung from thick vines on a dank, dark jungle night. He held his nose up as high as he could, kicking desperately, but still he sank. Purple slime gleamed on cracked grey rocks. Water poured from islands floating miles over the earth. A bestial howl echoed through an unending plain of ice. He couldn’t hold it any more, he was going–

“My apologies.”

The stallion was ripped from the thick, icy substance by a force of great magnitude. It was firm, yet warm and comfortable. A featherless creature soared above a great blue-pink sea. As he rose higher and higher, the substance, which he now recognized for silvery-looking, seemed to flow off with unnatural ease. As if it were eager to return to the pool below. The stranger coughed and sputtered, making certain that none of it had gotten in his mouth.

The stranger’s rise halted a good distance above the pool. No… not a pool. From here he could perceive that it was a tide. A great flow of silver poured in from every direction, flowing both up and down to reach the largest, most impossible vortex that he had ever seen. It was a whirlpool a continent wide and more, and yet somehow he could clearly perceive the other side, witness the endless flow of the silver into that edge as well. And from the center of this great vortex burst another whirlpool, this one seemingly widest at the bottom of the first, thinning out as it swirled upwards. The stranger looked many miles into the air, saw the endpoint. It touched another sea of silver suspended impossibly upside down, this one flowing in just the opposite direction, out and away from the vortex. He followed the seas as far as his eyes could perceive, yet he could see no end to it all. Indeed, at a great distance the silver currents bent, eventually reaching the point that he could not tell one from the other. Such was his stupefaction that he did not even notice his jaw hanging limply.

“Does this please you, Master?”

The stranger jumped to hear Djinni’s voice, and would undoubtedly have fallen had he been supporting himself. When he turned his head, there she was, floating there as though she had been in this place forever. She did not even use her wings.

“Where… where are we?” he managed.

“The Wellspring of Eternity,” she answered. “It is said to be the first place that the Creator ever touched. From here all time flows, and to here all time must flow. It has, to the best of my knowledge, never before been witnessed by mortal eyes.”

“What was all that?” he asked.

“That?” She raised an eyebrow.

“The… you know...” He waved a hoof around. “Flow of images. The visions I saw. All that… weird… stuff!” he threw up his hooves.

“Those would be the moments you touched, Master.”

“The moments I touched?”

“As I said, all time flows here. You caught a glimpse of a few moments in time as they flowed here. Past, present, or future… ordinary perceptions of time have little meaning here.” She paused. “I tried to pick an interesting section for you. Most of them are just scenes of nothing much happening in the cold depths of space. I hope that you found them enjoyable.”

“You threw me in there?!” He had almost drowned, for heaven’s sake.

She blinked. “Well, yes. I assumed that you wanted the full experience. You can’t fully see this place until you had a time in the time stream.”

“I almost drowned!”

“You were in no danger of drowning, Master. You simply slipped in slightly faster than I anticipated. But you would never have run out of air.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Who do you think is now filling your lungs? Or did you suppose that places such as this simply happen to have air of perfect atmospheric ratio for your species’ health for no particular reason?” She shrugged. “I just assumed that you wished to survive this experience.”

The stranger made a mental note then and there not to get on this spirit’s bad side. There were so many ways that he could see to have killed him with this wish – or make him wish that she had. But she had proven herself honest after all. His gamble had paid off.

Take that, caution!

“So,” Djinni asked after some time had passed. “Does this please you, Master?”

“Very much so.” He nodded.

“I am pleased.” She smiled. “Do you care to go back, or would you stay longer?”

“I want to see more,” he answered immediately. “Lower me into the flow, just a little bit. I want to see more of the time stream.”

And so he did. With a single hoof stuck gently into the silvery flow, the stranger beheld snatches of time from across the universe. Past, present, and future all blended together in one indeterminate mess as he witnessed things that nopony had ever seen before, from the dawn of their race to alien vistas to the birth of stars and even more exotic scenes. Hours and hours passed while he scarcely noticed, caught up in wondrous discovery and utter amazement. He might well have stayed in that place forever, exploring the infinite depths of time, had his own body not betrayed him at the last. For he eventually grew tired and hungry, and his mind began to be overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of the knowledge he was acquiring. In the end, it forced his hoof.

“Please,” he whispered to Djinni, eyes half-shut and voice weak. “Take us back.”

The spirit smiled knowingly. “Done.”

The two appeared right back in the tomb, exactly where they had been hours ago. The conjured carpet was still in place, cushions and all. Everything, down to their very positions and posture, was just as how it had been. The stranger, already worn down to nothing, wasted no time in rolling over onto one of the pillows and falling asleep.

For her part, the mare simply looked on and smiled.

Chapter 5

Many hours later the stranger awoke from his slumber to the soft sound of sobbing. Still thoroughly worn down by the previous day, he barely cracked an eye as he raised his ears. The only thing he saw was more darkness – without lighting it himself he had seen by the brightness of Djinni’s mane, and now that she was gone it was as dark as one would expect an underground tomb to be. For half a second his sleep-addled mind wondered if the extraordinary events here had all been little more than a dream. The next second he felt the continuing presence of the soft carpet underneath him and immediately dismissed that idea for utter stupidity.

His ears rotated to focus on the source of the sound. Sobbing meant someone was near, and in distress. It wasn’t exactly an epic feat of intelligence to figure out who. Djinni wasn’t in the room with him, and she had repeatedly expressed a desire not to go back into the lamp. And the voice he heard certainly seemed soft and feminine enough to be hers.

The spirit had, despite her threats, proven as good as her word yesterday. And now she seemed upset, and perhaps there was something he could do. She had helped him, and so he could not in good conscience turn down the chance to help her. Despite the protests of his still-exhausted body, he forced himself to his hooves. Sleep had left them stiff and weak, so he stumbled slightly before achieving balance and conjuring a dim light on his horn. Then, with as much stealth as could be had with hooves on hard rock, he set out to find where the noise was coming from.

It wasn’t exactly difficult. He had been in and out of the tomb several times by this point, enough to have a general idea of the layout. And the soft sobs echoed easily in the confined space, giving him an even easier time of it.

The stranger found Djinni by the tomb’s entrance, with her back to him. Her head hung limply and her fires were low and dim, barely lighting the scene any more than his own horn. Her back bent double, putting her head almost to the floor. In contrast to the mare, the white light of the moon brightly illuminated the cave’s mouth and gave the scene a slightly eerie, otherworldly touch. Tears fell gently from the spirit’s cheeks, glinting briefly in the moon’s pale light.

The stranger wasn’t entirely certain what to do. He had come with the idea of helping, but now that he saw her, he was unsure of how. Certainly the mare had plenty to cry about, but his previous efforts to nudge in that direction had gotten him only death threats. How was he to proceed without knowing what exactly was wrong? And how was he to learn that without drawing her ire? She could have killed him a dozen different ways during his first wish and he knew it. If he made her angry now…

He hesitated, caught between two conflicting impulses. For a few minutes all he did was watch as she continued to cry softly, feeling more and more that he did not belong with each passing second. Eventually he slowly began to back off, resolving to perhaps ask her in the morning or whenever she felt up to venturing back. Unfortunately for that plan, ill luck decided the matter for him when he took an inadvertent step backwards onto a crumbling clay tile. The old thing buckled and let out a sharp crack.

The mare’s head whipped around in an instant, her latest sob chocked halfway up her throat. Her eyes widened and her flames roared back to life in the blink of an eye. Her back straightened. The stranger swore that he spotted thin trails of steam from her cheeks and even eyes as her tears simply vaporized. In the blink of an eye her sad demeanor disappeared as if it had never been.

“M-Master,” she stuttered, eyes closed and head bowed. “W-what are you d-doing here? I’m s-sorry, did I w-wake you? A th-thousand apologies, my – nrgh!”

Djinni had attempted to take a step backwards. At once her bracelets flashed bright, and her body was yanked towards him roughly. She toppled over onto her face with a dull thud. The stranger winced. As she had said, she could not travel far from the lamp he’d left back in the burial chamber. He couldn't imagine living his life on a leash like that.

“Are you alright?” he asked, offering a hoof to the groaning spirit.

She looked up at it, and then immediately was upright again. Though she was still taller than he, she bent her neck such that she looked up at him. It made her look cute and vaguely pitiful.

“Perfectly alright, Master!” she said hastily. “Absolutely fine! Yes, perfectly and totally in tiptop shape and ready to serve at your command!”

“Why… why were you crying?” he asked, prodding her chin up a little.

“N-no reason,” she said. “I was just… just…” Her eyes darted everywhere. “Just mourning my old Master! Yes, that’s it! Being in this place reminds me of him and all of that, so I thought I’d come out here for a good c-cry to get it out of my system!” She grinned feebly up at him.

The stranger looked skeptically down at her.

Djinni’s grin faded.

“Uh… Master should get some rest!” she declared, and without ceremony the two were back right where they had been hours earlier. “Did I not p-provide adequate sleep facilities? A th-thousand apologies, Master! A thousand and one!”

“That’s not–” he began, only to be promptly cut off by finding himself atop an old-style, plush feather bed that had appeared from nowhere.

“It was v-very rude of me to ask my master to sleep on an old carpet! No wonder you woke up! I am deeply sorry!” she continued speaking in rapid-fire mode. “Master should also never be disturbed by trivial noises at night! I should have th-thought of it earlier!”

“I–” He didn’t even manage two words before being interrupted, this time by the sudden appearance of very comfortable earmuffs over his head.

“And p-perhaps something to help Master sleep would be in order!”

A tray of various goblets was all but shoving itself in the stranger’s face.

“A-any one of those drinks contains a laced potion that will help Master have a comfortable night’s sleep and wake well-rested in th-the morning! I ch-chose the most popular… does Master have a favorite? I can do that! Wines, beers, ales, ciders, honeyed mead, milk… Anything y-you like!”

The stranger was fed up with this already. He gripped the tray in his own magic and tossed it away, roughly. Djinni winced as it crashed loudly into one of the walls.

“Uh… does M-Master prefer potions in solid food? I can do that too!” she said, promptly shoving a second tray in his face, this one covered with exotic and expensive foodstuffs.

“No!” he said, shoving it back towards her, where it promptly vanished.

“…straight from the b-bottle?” she asked very quickly.

“No potions!” he insisted, tossing the earmuffs off of his head.

“Singing th-then?” she managed.

“No!”

“M-massage?” she squeaked, managing to muster another feeble grin.

Said grin faded almost immediately as the stranger tore off the bed covers and rolled back onto his hooves. Though she was much larger and the one with flames for hair, she still shrank before him like a scolded filly.

“Heh heh...” She forced a chuckle. “Perhaps Master would c-care for–”

“I just,” he interrupted with a stern expression. “Want you to tell me why you were crying.”

“N-nothing important, Master,” she said, very quickly. “Nothing you need concern yourself with! I s-swear it will not affect your wishes in any way! Is there anything I can–”

“I want you to talk to me. I want to hear it,” he said, looking her firmly in the eye. After a second, his expression softened. “I want to help you.”

“I-it is nothing, Master! I… I… I…”

The stranger tapped a hoof in the manner of a stern father.

Her ears folded back. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

He shook his head.

“Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer–”

“Djinni…”

She winced. “Y-yes Master. Of course.” She bowed her head. “Whatever you wish.”

“I only want you to talk to me,” he repeated. “Please… just tell me what’s gotten to you.”

The spirit hesitated, and then took a very deep breath.

“Youmadeyourfirstwish,” she squeaked, head bowed low.

“What?” He had had no idea speaking that fast or softly was even possible.

“Youmadeyourfirstwish.”

“Slow down, please,” he said.

“You…” She swallowed. “You made your first wish, Master. That… that is what has gotten to me.”

He blinked. “I… what?”

The stranger had no idea what she meant. Had he wished for something she thought to be bad? Was the Wellspring of Eternity a place that distressed her?

“What do you mean?”

“I…” She sniffed a little. “I am only here until your third wish is granted, Master. Only until that moment can I walk the earth and breathe free air. Afterwards I must return to the darkness inside the lamp.”

Oh.

“It is small in there. Small and dark and lonely.” She shuddered visibly. “So lonely…”

The stranger nodded his head in sympathy. He couldn’t imagine a worse fate than being cooped up by himself in the same endless dark, for all eternity. He didn't even think he had the ability to properly comprehend how horrible that would be. He almost breached the subject of freedom again, though this time his self-preservation instincts won out.

“You have only two wishes left, Master. Then I must return, and I shall be alone again.” Another tear trickled down her cheek as her flames dimmed once more.

“I’m… sorry. I never–”

“It is perfectly alright!” She jumped, mane roaring back to life and tears vaporizing. “Do not let this affect you, Master! Please, do not feel sad on my account! It is not your fault! I beg of you to forget this night and wish as you will! Receive what you desire and be happy! Please!”

“But, wouldn’t that-”

“It does not matter! Do not allow yourself to be troubled by these things!” She managed a smile. “My sadness should not be yours. Please, allow me to give you something for sleep and rest easily until the morning light.”

Her selflessness – or insanity – was astonishing.

“Why?” he asked, simply.

“Because your happiness is mine,” she said, slowly. “The warmth of happy memories is all that I dream of in the endless sleep between masters. So please, if you would help me, do not deny me that.”

“A-alright,” he managed, mind still reeling under the sheer apparent insanity of it all. She hated her prison, yet she threatened death if freedom was mentioned. She wept for the time soon to end but she insisted that he should not care. Still struggling to process it properly, he climbed back into the bed she had made. The covers spontaneously pulled themselves over him.

“Does Master have a favorite drink?” Djinni asked from the bedside.

“Just… just give me a beer,” he mumbled, still very confused. “I need a drink.”

“Of course.”

She gave him a mug, which he promptly put to his lips and swallowed as much as he possibly could. The alcohol was warm and rich, yet he found that he didn’t mind. Barely seconds later had a powerful drowsy sensation swept over his brain. He was out before he hit the pillow.

“Good morning, Master,” came a soft voice from just beside the stranger.

“Gah!” he jumped – right out of the bed.

At least the carpet was soft.

“My goodness!” He found Djinni standing above him, though he had not heard her hoofsteps. “Master, here, let me help you up.”

He found himself pulled gently to his hooves by an invisible band. He shook his head to clear off the effects of sleep. Strangely, he was waking much more easily than he usually did.

“Good morning!” the spirit said in a cheerful tone.

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed that she was crying her heart out a mere few hours before. The way she could shift disposition on a moment’s notice was still unnerving. He could never be entirely certain what to expect.

“It is time for breakfast. Do you have any preferences?”

“Uh, I did pack food, you know,” he said, reaching for one of the saddle bags on the ground.

“Nonsense.” She pushed it away casually. “Allow me. What’s your pleasure?”

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asked, feeling a little awkward.

“But I want to!” she answered with a smile. “My master’s happiness is my happiness!”

The stranger doubted that that was all there was to it. He didn’t disbelieve her words so much as feel she was leaving something out. Namely, that her subservience and gift-giving represented a less than subtle kind of bribe to a master. To wit: let me stay out of my lamp all the time, and I’ll wait on you horn and hoof. It had the double benefit of making them less likely to use a wish, thus further prolonging her own stay in the world.

Still, he wasn’t entirely above taking advantage of it.

“I like flapjacks,” he said.

“How many?”

A very large and quite delicious breakfast later, the stranger was sitting thinking. He wanted… what he had always wanted. But Djinni wanted things too. Even if she could be creepy and threatening, it wouldn’t be right to just make two more quick wishes and then ditch her somewhere. She was very considerate to him, even if it was motivated wholly or in part by her self-interest. Surely he could do something for her in return? Besides, it was... nice to have her around. She was attractive and, when not pressed, sweet.

After around an hour of internal deliberation, he settled on an idea. The only thing that remained was to put the question to her. He found the sun spirit wandering the tomb on her own, easily standing out for the bright orange-gold flames she emitted at all times. At first glance she looked a little melancholy, but by the time he got close she was all smiles again.

“Djinni?” he asked, cautiously.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’ve thought of a second wish.”

Her face fell.

“I… wanted to run it by you first.”

And just like that, she pulled herself back together again. No trace of sadness remained on her beautiful face as she bowed once more.

“Of course, Master. How may I serve?”

“I was just thinking…” He scratched the back of his neck a little bit. “I wanted you to show me every single wonder that you know of.”

“Every wonder?” She gawked. “But Master, I have lived for eons and beheld more than any mortal mind! To grant you that wish would require…” Her eyes widened as realization set in. “Years and years and years… walking the world…”

He nodded.

“I…” Her eyes were beginning to moisten. “I… don’t know what to say…”

The stranger simply tipped his hat.

And then found himself in a crushing grip the likes of which he hadn’t seen since almost being eaten by a supersized python.

“Thank you!”

Chapter 6

“So,” said the stranger, a good while later. “Where are we now?”

Across the horizon, as far as the eye could see, stretched a vast, shimmering wonderland. The sun’s bright light was reflected, refracted, magnified, and split in so many different ways that a pony not wearing special lenses could easily lose sight just looking out over it. Waves, from those no higher than a pony’s knee to towering behemoths the size of ten-story buildings, were everywhere. All were pointed in a similar direction, forming a tiny part of a great circle expanding outwards in all direction. They were also all immobile, being entirely made of shimmering, semi-transparent crystal.

“This is the Sea of Glass, among those who know of it,” said Djinni, standing beside him atop the great peak of one of the waves. The tallest for miles, it offered an excellent viewpoint. “This place used to be a barren desert, many eons ago. An exiled alchemist took up residence in the epicenter, constructing a great tower from the stones and sand by dint of his art. He hoped to prove to his former kingdom and his compatriots how wrong they had been to banish him. Instead, he wound up demonstrating exactly why that was a good idea.”

The stallion winced, tugging on his hat a little. “So he basically managed to blow up an entire desert?”

“Essentially, yes. The way his reagents reacted with the sand caused it to flow like an ocean for the brief moment before it all turned to glass.” She tapped the substance with a hoof. “Crystals harvested from here still have useful applications in alchemy. So, in a way, he wound up contributing to his art after all.”

“I doubt he saw it like that.”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “Then again, he didn’t exactly get a chance to witness the fallout.”

“Mhm…” The stranger nodded, then looked out over the vast crystalline structure.

It was beautiful, like many of the things he had seen. Each wave looked as though it had been painstakingly hoof-crafted by a master artisan over the course of years. There was not the tiniest flaw or scratch on the wave they stood on, nor on any other that he could see, an undeniable sign of the crystal's magical nature. The beauty of the scenery was further accentuated by the perfect smoothness of it all, the way one wave flowed into another and blended seamlessly. The multitude of rainbows stretching across this bizarre place. Even the stillness of it was soothing in a way, like time itself was frozen here and one could stare out at it all for a century and not age a single day.

“Hey,” he said, after a minute of silent observation. “Djinni?”

“Master?” She looked at him.

“Bet you that I can get to the top of that wave first.” He pointed a glass structure nearly fifty feet high. “If you don’t break out those wings or your magic.”

She looked down at where he pointed, then grinned. “You’re on!”

The two of them appeared at the base of that wave at her merest word.

“On your marks…” the stranger said. “Get set…” both assumed a racing position. “Go!”

Djinni went right for the wave. With her longer legs she easily got to it first, and began to scale. She managed almost fifteen feet before the angle shifted and she began to lose traction, Gripping flawless glass is ordinarily difficult enough, doing it with blunt hooves is next to impossible. She began to slip, then very quickly fell back down to land on her backside. Being very resilient, she got immediately back up and tried the climb again from a different angle. This time she only made it eight feet or so before she lost her balance. The third try took her up around eighteen feet, the fourth perhaps twenty-two. After sliding back down for the fifth time, she heard the sound of faint laughter.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, rounding on the stranger. “I may not have succeeded yet, but you haven’t even tried! I thought this was going to be a race!”

“Oh, it is,” he replied. “I just wanted to scope out the competition first.”

“Oh?” she snorted. “You try it then, oh glorious Master.”

He grinned and gave a mock bow. “Your wish is my command.”

“Oh ha ha…” Djinni rolled her eyes.

The stranger sauntered casually up to the wave of crystal, sized the thing up with a good look or two, and… seized his own boots in telekinesis. He rose easily, like an elevator, perfectly balanced from long experience.

“You cheat!” The spirit pointed up at him, as he reached the top without delay. “You said no magic!”

“No,” he replied, giving her a roguish grin. “I said none of your magic! I didn’t say anything about mine! And here I was worried that the ancient and all-powerful sun spirit would notice my little loophole,” he tipped his hat downward at her and chuckled. “You need to up your game, little lady.”

“You know you’ll regret that, right, oh master mine?” she answered with a grin of her own.

“In your dreams, maybe!” The stranger walked away, laughing.

She was cute when she was flustered.

“Are you s-sure this is a good idea?” The stranger swallowed, backing up a step.

“Oh, don’t be such a foal, Master,” Djinni said. “It’s only a little drop.”

To be more accurate, it was, to the stranger’s best estimate, a drop of a minimum nineteen hundred feet. A drop to be made inside a waterfall. The two stood on the edge of a vast green island floating peacefully above the ground. High above the ground. Insanely, lethally high above the ground. It did not, to the best of Djinni’s knowledge, have a name, for no one had discovered it before.

The stranger felt like “Hell” might be a good one.

By chance or fate, the magicks of earth and sky possessed mutual, overlapping nexuses on this exact location that made the entire bizarre thing possible. Further, tunnels in the earth buried right through parts of the nexus, imbuing whatever came through them with a small portion of supernatural energy, permitting them to bend the laws of physics. In this case, water poured down from a vast lake atop the island into a gaping maw below. Djinni claimed up and down that the water then whipped through the underground tunnels until it reached another key point, which caused it to shoot back up into the air so high that immediately rained back down on the other side of the island, keeping the lake continuously full to bursting. A natural perpetual motion machine.

Djinni had, naturally, decided that properly granting his wish would entail a ride through the tunnels below.

“How else can I say that I showed you this wonder as you wished it, Master?” she had said with an innocent smile on her face.

The stranger was not a pony who ordinarily suffered from acrophobia or aquaphobia. Sure, he was not as fond of heights as a pegasus or as enamored of the water as a hippocampus, but he could reasonably say that he feared neither. Now, though… the prospect of free-falling hundreds of feet while being deluged, sent through the universe’s most deranged water slide, and then shot back all that way up to splash down into a lake was less than appealing. That the water was also rather chilly only made the idea seem more unpleasant.

“You know,” he said to the sun spirit, who was holding them both at the very edge of the waterfall. “I think we can consider this part of the wish adequately granted, don’t you? I’ve seen what I needed to see, and I think it would be perfectly delightful to move on to the next place right about now,” he grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth.

Djinni rolled her eyes, put a gentle hoof on his back, and shoved him off the edge.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Master.”

The stallion let out a wild shriek as he plummeted like a rock. The water beat down on his back, soaking him to the bone. Simultaneously the wind whipped up against him, ripping his precious hat from his head and blasting his lips apart to display the teeth within. He fell and fell and fell and fell, watching with utter horror as the conical maw in the ground grew closer and closer with each passing second.

At the last second of his freefall the stranger caught a slight glimpse back upwards. A bright white and yellow figure made its own plunge over the edge. Somehow, his ears could just make out the sound she was making.

“WHEEEEEE!”

The stranger hit rock but didn’t stop moving even for an instant. The weight of the water drove him downwards into the tube-shaped tunnel at ridiculous speeds. The fall didn’t hurt, and he had no problems breathing, but all the same adrenaline raced through his system, and his heart pounded at high speeds. He shot through the dark, rocky tube faster than a bullet, completely encased in the torrent. All was black rock save for the occasional deep green crystals that provided a faint illumination as the water carried him.

The world’s most demented water ride continued for… it must have been at least a minute. Maybe two. The stranger felt himself being pushed uphill and downhill, spun around in swirling spirals, endured two additional freefalls underground, and once could have sworn he even went through a loop-de-loop the size of a small mountain. He was proud to say that he only screamed like he was about to die around half of the time, somehow never getting a mouthful of water through all of it.

Up ahead he had half a second to spy a speck, before he was promptly thrown from a third underground waterfall. This time he slid down the sides of another conical vent towards what appeared to be the world’s biggest geyser stuck on permanent eruption. The high-pressure fountain of water caught him easily, and he got the opportunity to scream once more as it shot him and multiple tons of glittering mountain water hundreds of feet into the air. The journey upwards was slower by far than the one down from the island, giving him plenty of time to take in the scenery and all the sharp rocks waiting below.

The waterspout eventually curved downwards in a picture-perfect arc, treating the soaked stallion to one final fall from a good hundred feet up. He crashed into the lake at speeds high enough to snap bones like twigs under ordinary circumstances. A torrent of the cold, clear water poured down atop his head, pushing him under and outwards. The stranger thanked the Creator he was a strong swimmer as he paddled for the nearest beach. He managed to haul himself onto the beach, shivering and muttering unmentionable things about spirits and the nature of their mothers.

Very soon the stranger heard a familiar voice, whooping and giggling like a lunatic. He watched Djinni herself take the final plunge into the island’s lake, before turning away to focus on limping onto the warm, dry grass to sunbathe.

“What in all creation was that?!” he demanded from his back when he heard someone climbing out of the water.

“Why, whatever do you mean, Master?” Her tone of innocent naiveté was so perfect that a less experienced stallion would have surrendered to it on the spot. “I sought only to give my master the fullness of the experience that he wished for. How could I call myself a proper servant if I neglected such a vital part of this wonder?”

The stranger sat up a little, groaning. Then he stopped, put a hoof to his mouth, and barely managed to keep from bursting into laughter.

“I didn’t know you were going for a new look,” he said.

“Huh?” Djinni blinked, before idly sauntering up to the water to look at herself.

Her scream almost shook the island.

Cheeks flush, the sun spirit shut her eyes. A second later, steam burst from all over her body as she reignited her extinguished tail and mane. They noticeably contained a touch of red amidst the gold and orange.

“Now then,” he said, as she walked back towards him with her best dignified air. “My hat.”

“Hat, Master?” She batted her eyes innocently. “What hat?”

“You know damn well what hat. The hat that fell off when you decided to shove me off a cliff!”

She batted her eyes again and smiled sweetly, flaring her wings upwards. The sun behind her head gave the impression of a halo. Some might have mistaken her for an angel.

“Give me my hat back, woman!”

Something wet and heavy dropped directly onto his face.

“Master’s every wish is my command,” she said, with just a slight giggle.

The stranger groaned.

“You could have, you know, warned me!” the stranger shouted, as he galloped as fast as his hooves could take him.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Djinni, who ran beside him, snapped back.

The two galloped along the floor of a city-sized underground cavern. The whole place was craggy black stone from end to end, save for the violet crystals of varying sizes that rose from the ground at regular intervals. High above on the cavern’s roof was the largest of these crystals, almost a mile in diameter. It cast its light in the manner of a miniature sun, illuminating the towering, cyclopean constructions of roughly carved black stone jutting hundreds of feet into the air. Between them were vaguely flattened sections of terrain faintly resembling roads, which twisted and branched in all directions seemingly without rhyme or reason. The Dead City of Pazulti, Djinni had called it.

It was not as dead as they had hoped.

“I mean,” the spirit continued, seemingly not bothered by the task of running and yelling simultaneously. “Last time I was here, it was a perfectly serviceable ancient ruin! How could I have known that it had picked up infestations of umbrum and undead in the millennia since?! And besides...” She leaped over a fallen chunk of building in a single bound. “You were the one who insisted on poking around in abandoned buildings!”

“Well, yeah!” he shouted back. “It’s kind of what I do! You know, explore things, bring back treasures, and write it all down, that sort of thing! We've been doing this for years! What did you expect I would do?!”

Whatever retort the sun spirit might have made was preemptively drowned out by the sound of a horrible wail no living throat could produce. The sound cracked several of the violet crystals, dislodged at least one chunk of masonry, and made the stranger’s ear’s bleed.

Behind the two fleeing, arguing figures came the hordes of hell. Dead bodies of many species, some that had long since passed from living memory, ran, scuttled, floated, soared, or crawled along Pazulti’s ancient roads, screaming bloody murder. Some were dry and desiccated, others half rotten with worms crawling between gaps in their skin. Still others looked as though they had died yesterday, which they quite possibly had.

Racing alongside the more numerous dead were half-formed shapes of inky blackness. Some had the likeness of ponies, others of minotaurs or horses or griffons or even more exotic species. All trailed shadow, whether a trace from their tails all the way to being little more than a head on a whispy black cloud. Other living shadows didn’t even bother with mortal form, soaring through the air as shafts of midnight black with alien mouths coming out the end.

“What possessed you that you would poke at red and black crystals?!” Djinni yelled. “They were red and black, for Creator’s sake! You know that means bad things!”

“Because you told me it was safe!” he shouted back at her. “I tend to take your recommendations on this sort of thing!”

“I told you that I thought the city was safe! Not that you should go prod at everything shiny that catches your mortal eye!”

The stranger pivoted quickly to dodge a bolt of green flame.

“I don’t think you understand what the word safe means, do you?!” he barked.

“It doesn’t mean do stupid things while I’m a room over!”

Both pony and spirit had to take a brief break from their argument as a massive hand burst forth from the ground in front of them. Five-fingered and formed roughly from the ubiquitous black stone, it had a decent covering of the red-black crystals the umbrum had emerged from. The two bolted around it while another hand burst out a good distance away. A vaguely humanoid figure easily ten stories tall ripped itself from the earth. Almost three dozen massive red and black crystals grew from its hide. Shadows flickered across its “skin”, filling in gaps in the stone. Besides that, its only distinguishable feature was a pair of pupil-less green orbs trailing dark purple wisps right around where its eyes should have been.

“This is your fault!” the two roared at each other as they ran.

The two might well have continued arguing like an old married couple for some time, but for the creature. At that exact moment the towering giant raised both titanic fists and pounded the ground. Instantly shockwaves raced out in all directions, with such power as to throw living, spirit, and undead alike off their hooves and hurl them all to the floor. The earthquake continued to spread, toppling structures that had stood for eons in seconds. Heedless of this, the giant strode forward, eating up ground towards the sprawled duo at a rapid pace.

“You know,” the stranger said from where he had fallen, blood trickling down his cheek. “I think that I find this part of the wish to be well and duly granted to my utter satisfaction. Perhaps it is time we vacate the premises.”

Djinni took one look at the monstrosity crashing its way towards them and nodded her head.

“I quite agree,” she said.

And they were gone.

“Well,” he said, many, many years later. “That’s it for this round.”

The stranger wiped the sweat off of his brow and set his quill aside before collapsing back into his chair. He felt he did that far too often these days, but at his age one really had to. At least it was comfortable.

“It is?” came the voice he knew so intimately. “You are finished?”

“I am,” he said. “My journal, volume three hundred and seventy-two, is now officially complete.”

Djinni sat across the room from him. While he had been working on properly recording the latest batch of their adventures, she had simply lounged on a sofa and read a book while sipping delicately at some herbal tea. He would occasionally call on her to supply a detail – while his mind was mostly undimmed by his twilight years, she was utterly untouched by time, as beautiful as the day they had met. This arrangement made her memory available whenever he needed it.

“Oh…” Djinni sat down her book and tea, and then sighed.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Yes…” She hesitated.

“Well, go on, spit it out,” he told her. “I’m not getting any younger here!”

She smiled weakly. “I’m… I’m afraid that’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“I have shown you each and every wonder that I know of, from least to greatest. Your second wish…” She bowed her head a little. “Is now granted, Master.”

The stranger slumped back in his chair, unsure of what exactly he was feeling. Shock obviously. He had been doing this for the greater bulk of his life now, in spite of his family's disapproval. The adventures and exploration were as much a part of him as anything else. It felt hard to believe that it could, at last, be over. Regret, too. Though it had been decades in the making, looking back at that moment it still felt so short a length of time. He remembered a dozen different times he could have taken it more seriously, squeezed more out of it. Finally a great question loomed: what was he to do now?

Seconds went by in silence as he pondered this. Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours. The mortal and the spirit sat in deep silence, brooding on what both knew must eventually come, but neither had wanted.

It was, in the end, Djinni who spoke up first.

“…Master?” she prodded.

“Hmmm?” The stranger looked up from the book he’d been staring at.

“You still have one wish left, my master,” she reminded him. “Do you have any… ideas?”

Actually, come to think of it he did have one. He’d had the idea for years, but there had always been preoccupations, distractions, delays. And a tinge of fear as well. But, the more he thought of it now the more appropriate it seemed. His long-running wish was over and done with. And if she got angry, even after all this? Well, he was ninety-three and had a birthday in a few weeks. He wasn’t exactly going to live much longer either way. Might as well settle the matter here and now.

“Djinni?” he said slowly, trying to overcome years of ingrained aversion to the topic.

“Yes?”

“I had a question.”

She smiled. “You know that you may ask me anything, Master.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“You’ll… keep your head? No going full solar power on my study? Or me?”

“After all this time, what could you possibly ask me that would make me do that?”

“I…” he paused, clearing his throat and summoning his fortitude.

“Go on,” she prodded gently. “I promise I will answer.”

He raised his head and looked her directly in the eye. “Tell me why you can’t be free.”

Time seemed to run in slow motion. Djinni’s eyes went wide, her mouth curled downwards. The flames on her head and tail blazed higher. Faint hints of red could be seen within. The temperature, at least to the stranger’s perception, seemed to rise. Sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He licked his suddenly dry lips. But he matched her gaze, one for one. The staring contest – the battle of wills, really – went on and on and on for no one quite knew how long.

But, eventually, Djinni slowly lowered her eyes, and then her head. The streaks of red faded from her mane, cool air rushed back into the room. The silence continued for several more seconds as she mentally submitted to his will.

“As you wish, Master,” she said, raising her head up again. “I shall tell you. After all this time… after all we have done together… you have earned the right to know.”

The stranger sat back in his chair, ears up high and twitching slightly.

“The reason I cannot be free, Master...” She sighed. “Is because my freedom means my utter annihilation.”

Chapter 7

“What do you mean?” the stranger asked. Freedom was death to her?! How could that be?

“I mean,” Djinni hung her head, flames dimming badly. “That to free me is to destroy all I am and ever could be.”

“Oh…”

“Master, do you remember the night we met properly?”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember what I told you of how I came to be?”

“Yes.”

“That is the state I would return to in an instant should my bond to the lamp ever be unraveled,” she explained. “I am, in the end, nothing more than a spark of the eternal flame. That I have an existence outside of that is due entirely to my binding. If it were unraveled, my mind and body would be annihilated, and my fire flow back from whence it came. I would be but one tiny part of the star again, unaware of my own existence. I do not even know if my memories would be taken back to the sun. Certainly all that makes me… well, me, would be irrevocably lost the moment someone set me free of this thing. I cannot allow that.”

The stranger couldn’t think of words adequately expressing his feelings, and so kept his mouth sealed shut.

“Djinni, I wish you free,” she chuckled morbidly. “You might as well say: Djinni, I wish you dead, and your soul obliterated for good measure. Of course–” he thought he saw a spark of resentment in her eyes. “–I don’t have a soul. If I die, I will never see an afterlife. My physical existence and that of my lamp is all I will ever have. Come to think of it, that–” she pointed a hoof at the old bronze lamp sitting on the stranger’s desk “–is the closest thing to a soul that I do possess.”

He picked it up, handling the antique with care. It still didn’t look to be anything special.

“So that’s why…”

“I have always been so adamant about never so much as discussing the subject?” she finished for him. “That is correct. You must understand: a threat to break the bond is a threat to all I am and ever was. I cannot be lax in protecting my own existence. Even if it must come at the cost of another’s.” She hung her head a little. “I don’t want to die, Master.”

“You fear it so much,” he said quietly. “That you even prefer an eternity of servitude?”

“I do,” she answered. “If you had asked me when my mind was first shaped from the fire, I would most likely have embraced oblivion with willing eagerness, for I saw this existence as little more than a constriction. But it has been many millennia since I felt that way. Since then I have come to… appreciate, even enjoy the life I have. Yes, there are undoubtedly bad things about it. Perhaps even most things are bad. But I still find that I like it here. I like to walk the earth and take in the lives of mortals. I like to see my masters’ happiness. I like the feelings I have, the memories I cherish. They keep me going even in the long sleep of centuries. I do not wish to give it all up and dissolve away into the sun and utter nothingness.”

“Perhaps those feelings are part of your binding,” the stranger speculated.

“I doubt it,” she answered. “For I certainly did not feel them when my binder was around, or when I granted her first and last wish. In vengeance I killed her without hesitation and felt nothing but spiteful triumph for many thousands of years. No, I can think and learn and grow as all living creatures can. This is simply something I learned on my own.”

“Some would call such an attitude a malady of the mind. Some might say that it would be mercy to end you anyway.”

“And who are they?!” Djinni countered in a firm tone, orange flames growing red. “Who is the mortal that would presume to sit in judgement over me?! I am older than their pathetic minds can contemplate! I have seen their kind arise from the dust, and I shall watch as it returns to the earth! Their petty books and theories and philosophies last but a blink of my eye! I live, and I wish to live! What fool would dare try to deny me that?!”

Her eyes, now themselves tinged with red, settled on the stranger.

“You would not try to deny me?” she asked, voice low. “Would you?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“Good…” she hissed, before allowing the heat to fade away.

“Well,” said the stranger, wiping a bit of sweat off his face. “Now I know.”

“Now you do indeed,” Djinni agreed.

“I had wondered if it might be something like that,” his eyes were downcast. “But to hear it from your own mouth… That’s just horrible. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she waved a hoof dismissively. “It is not your fault. All of this played out millennia before your birth. There was nothing you could have done.”

Her resilience was still surprising, even after all these years.

“Do you ever... wish you were free?” he asked, a little hesitantly.

“I make a point of not wasting my time with impossibilities,” she answered. “I cannot be free, so I opt not to pointlessly mope and whine for that which will never be. Wishing for it would do me no good, and much harm.”

“You’ve never even thought about it?”

“What’s there to think about?”

“What if, say…” he fumbled about for an idea. “Somepony wished you were a mortal pony yourself, for example?”

“I cannot do that,” she said. “Again, everything I am is tied to that vessel. If I ever was forced to break the bond, which would be necessary for such a wish, I would unravel on the spot. Besides, I happen to enjoy living forever. There are costs, to be sure, but I would not be eager to take my chances in an afterlife even if it was an option for me.”

“Alright,” he mused. “Hmmm… what if somepony wished for you to be able to wander the earth doing what you wished after his – their third wish? Instead of returning to your prison?”

“Well as generous as this mysterious benefactor is,” she smiled faintly. “I’m afraid that would be a temporary solution at best. Assuming I could grant this wish – which I am not entirely certain of – the fact remains that it would expire whenever someone else acquired the lamp. And you know well enough that I cannot interfere with it. Or travel very far away from its resting place.”

“What if someone wished for, let's say, you couldn't take on a new master, and that you were free from your lamp until you did?”

“That is something I do not have the power to change. The one who holds the lamp is my master, because all I am is tied to it.”

“What if...” He scratched his head. “I don't know, someone wished to be reincarnated again and again, always the next to find your lamp?”

“To interfere with the fate of your soul after death is beyond my power.” She smiled slightly. "Very creative attempt, though.”

“I suppose you’ve had a lot longer to think about this than me,” the stranger sighed, burying his head in his hooves. “Isn’t there any way?”

“No.” She shook her head. “As I said so many years ago: I can never be free. It is the price I pay for my life, and one I pay willingly.”

“It just…” He rubbed a hoof along his forehead. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

“What doesn’t seem right?”

“You know.” He gestured. “Leaving you like this. As a slave. Alone forever.”

“Master,” Djinni smiled gently, walking over to him. “Do you suppose yourself the first master to ask these questions?”

“Huh?” He looked up at her.

Djinni hugged him, her as pleasantly warm as it always had been. “You have been a wonderful master.” She held her grip for a few seconds before releasing him again. “But you are not the first being of conscience to find my lamp. Others before you have wondered whether I might not be granted a wish of my own. I told them all what I tell you now: it cannot be done. So put it from your mind and allow it to trouble you no more.”

That notion sat ill with the stranger, and his face must have shown it.

“You have one more wish before I must go,” she whispered softly. “And some years yet left before you. Take your time, think it out for as long as you please. I will be glad to remain here until such time as you are ready. And if I may make a suggestion, Master: I think you would much enjoy eternal youth.”

“But…”

“Shhh...” She put a hoof to his mouth. “No buts. Put the matter from your mind.”

Weeks passed. The stranger’s ninety-fourth birthday came and went without particular incident. In fact, to his way of thinking, everything was passing without incident. Perhaps he was simply spoiled from years and years of adventure, but he was beginning to get seriously bored simply staying around his home and the quiet little mountainside town that held it. He had never been one to simply sit around. But healthy as he was for a stallion of his age, he was far too old to walk out the door one day with full saddle bags and head out into the world. So what was he to do now? More than once he found himself reflecting that Djinni’s idea of being young forever might not be so bad after all.

And of course there was the other question. For though she had asked him to forget it, the stallion’s mind often returned to the subject of Djinni’s fate. She had been his closest companion… and more, for decades now. The thought of selfishly abandoning her at the end sat very poorly with him. And knowing that she would be stuck, enslaved, alone, and unloved, for all eternity made the feeling worse. But what was he supposed to do about it?

“What do you do in that lamp?” he asked her one day during the middle of a chess game.

“Why do you ask?” She moved her piece.

“Just curious is all.” He moved his. “Humor me, won’t you?”

Djinni tapped her chin, then shifted her queen. “I suppose I will.”

The stranger studied the board while waiting for her to begin.

“It is, as I’ve said, very dark and quite cramped inside of that vessel,” she said. “My raw essence floats about within the walls of bronze. I, for the most part, choose to spend my time in there almost constantly asleep, either reliving happy memories or dreaming of masters yet to come. It helps make the time go faster.”

“Well, I hope I’ll feature in a few of the former,” he replied, at last moving a bishop.

She smiled and moved without looking. “I assure you that I will carry many wonderful memories of our time together into my upcoming sleep.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He returned the smile and then moved. “Do you ever get lonely in there?”

“Oh yes,” she said in a more somber tone. “All the time. I come from the sun, remember, and one of my deepest instincts is to share what light I have. My prison time would certainly be considerably less unpleasant had I – Oh!” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, tone perfectly level as he made his next play.

“I’ve known you for most of your life, Master. I know perfectly well what you look like when you’re getting a damn fool idea into your skull.” She moved a piece absentmindedly. “I won’t hear of it!”

“Won’t hear of what?” He liked to think that his innocent act was almost as good as hers. “I haven’t suggested anything.”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Her stomping hoof rattled the table. “I can just see the little gears grinding in your mortal mind right now! You’re thinking of doing something incredibly stupid that you’ll regret for the rest of time just to assuage your hero complex! Well, it’s not going to happen, you hear me? I won’t permit you to destroy your future in my name!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said as he made another move with utter tranquility.

“You’ve been considering this since I told you everything, haven’t you?” Djinni hissed as she made her own move. “You just wanted confirmation out of my lips! But I’m putting a stop to it, here and now!”

This time the stranger didn’t even speak, just made a casual move and sat back in his chair.

“Your idiot mortal brain,” she snapped, taking one of his pawns, “is telling you that it would be a jolly – and no doubt heroic too – idea to use your last wish to join me, isn’t that right? Save the fair maiden from ever being alone again, no?”

He said nothing as he made another move.

“I won’t hear of it!” she half-screamed at him. “I won’t see you throw everything you might have down the drain for my sake! You will wish for eternal youth, you will go back into the world, and you will forget about me! Is that clear?!”

“Or else what?” he asked, fidgeting with another chess piece. “You’ll kill me?”

Djinni snarled openly, mane burning red as the temperature rose again. Her next move left the white rook she touched charred black in one spot, though she scarcely deigned to look at it.

“Besides,” he said, nudging his queen. “I thought I was the master around here.”

“I won’t do it!” she roared, voice powerful enough to rattle the entire building. The stranger had to grab the board in his own magic to stop it being blown away. “I won’t permit this travesty to occur! You have so much ahead of you – you need only say the words!”

“What’s got you in such a huff over what becomes of little old me?” he asked calmly.

“I will not see you share my fate!” She pounded the ground. “I love you too much to watch that happen!”

“Ah.” The stranger moved his king out of the way and flashed her a cocky grin. “So she finally admits it.”

“Why you infuriating little…” Djinni loudly ground her teeth in impotent rage, barely even glancing down as she reached to make a move. The stallion blocked her hoof with his own, though it almost burned to the touch.

“In case you didn’t notice, love,” he said, grin widening. “That was checkmate.”

Djinni looked down at the board. The stranger had not lied. Her king was trapped. She had lost. The sun spirit stared down at the chess board for almost a full minute, face frozen in place as her mind struggled to process it all. Eventually, she looked back up, met the stranger’s gaze head on, and… started to chuckle.

Seconds passed. Chuckles became laughter. Laughter proved contagious. Soon the pair of them were rolling on the floor, looking completely ridiculous and not even caring. Not long after that the two were stuffing their faces, imbibing copious quantities of alcohol, reminiscing, and telling really bad jokes. They did things more suited to ponies decades younger, laughed and cried, set the master bed on fire during lovemaking, and made this last night one that both would remember for eons to come.

And then, come next day, nothing in their lives would ever be the same.

Epilogue

Some few days later, at a manor house in the unicorn capital of Heavenspire, a letter arrived. A dignified-looking elder stallion received it. When he saw the seal upon the wax, his brow furrowed in irritation. Still, he reluctantly broke the scroll open and took in the content.

Dear Sparky,

So, a noble now, are you? Nice house in Heavenspire close to the palace and everything? Virgin lands to claim in the name of the crown, for the glory of the newest house? You’ve done pretty well for yourself, and for our family. No wonder Mom always liked you best.

No, I’m not going to ask you for money again. In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite. If you’re getting this letter, it means I’m gone and won’t be coming back. No more embarrassing the family, no more showing up unannounced in the middle of the night with strange mares in tow. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear it, though I’ll flatter myself to think you’ll still be a little sad to see me go. Whatever the case, I’m sure you’ll keep a stiff upper lip about it. Dignity of the family and honor of the house and all that. Dad would be proud.

Anyway, onto the main point of this. I’m sure it will take local clerks some time to check the status of my estate and make everything official, but to sum up my will in one brief statement: you get everything I owned. You deserve it. You were always willing to give me a hoof in between good finds. Even if you were, as I always suspected, just bribing me to keep quiet and well away from respectable society.

Tell your kids and grandkids that I’m gone, alright? I know you never liked me being around them, but they should at least know that their dear old uncle won’t be coming to any more family get-togethers. I always did like your children, by the way. Don’t know if this will matter, but seeing your foals sometimes made me regret that I never had any. But I bet I couldn’t have raised them half as well as you. They turned out great. They’ll go places. As my one last wager I’ll bet that even your distant descendants will go places, and that they’ll do our family proud. With you as a forebearer, how can they not?

And, one last thing: I love you. Take care.

For the last time, your big brother,
-Sunlight Sparkle